


i promise you

by 7losers



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7losers/pseuds/7losers
Summary: a new chapter.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 33





	i promise you

“Okay, Rich,” Eddie says. His voice carries through the barrens of their living room. A couple cardboard boxes line the wall next to the front door, all that remains of their belongings. “Can you take those boxes out to the car? I want to take a few more pictures before we leave.”

“My pleasure, _sir_ ,” Richie retorts, lips quirking in a half-smile as he makes his way to the door. “If I’d’ve known better, I’d say you’re dating me for my muscle.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly why and you know it!” Eddie calls after him, but Richie’s laughter is cut off by the door shutting behind him. Eddie waits for a few seconds, sure that Richie won’t come bounding through the door because he forgot the car keys. After a moment, Eddie takes a deep breath, _in for three out for six_ , and hurries to the bathroom. 

He opens the cabinet door under the sink. Boombox? Check. Old cassette tape that definitely doesn’t work with the boombox? Check.

He pats the front pocket of his shirt. Unneccesary-because-it’s-completely-memorized speech? Check.

Eddie moves from the bathroom to the kitchen, boombox in one hand and cassette in the other. He places them gently on the kitchen counter and, finally, strains on his tiptoes to reach the cabinet above the fridge. 

Ring? Check.

Another deep breath. He sits in the silence for the moment, taking in the empty walls, a splatter of paint near the porch door that they may have to pay for. The end of chapter two, a page half full and ready for chapter three.

Richie’s a loud walker, always whistling or twirling his keys, so Eddie can click play right as Richie throws open the front door.

“Alright, Eddie my love, boxes are in the car, cat’s in the cradle, and – we’re listening to When in Rome?” Richie stops in his tracks, squinting at Eddie through his glasses, smile breaking out across his face. Eddie feels like his internal organs are disorganized; his heart’s in his stomach and his stomach’s in his throat. Despite the nervousness, Eddie knows Richie too well. He knows what will come next.

“I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say!” Richie shout-sings at him, ripping his (untouched) sunglasses off the top of his head dramatically and tossing them onto the kitchen counter.

There it is.

Richie takes two long strides over to Eddie. Eddie throws his own head back and laughs, falling into Richie’s arms and letting him twirl him around. Eddie’s face is flushed, warm with joy and nostalgia and perhaps the slightest bit of self-consciousness as he joins Richie in belting the lyrics to The Promise.

At the end of the song, both of them are maybe a bit sweaty; moving in the summertime and dancing wildly in an apartment without air conditioning will do that. Eddie collapses onto the ground, breathless, careful to land on his knees. Richie walks to the boombox, whether to play the song again or turn it off, Eddie isn’t sure, but he pauses when he reaches the kitchen counter.

“Hey, where’d you find this?” Richie asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft, turning back to Eddie. He’s holding the cassette, labelled “ **SPAGHETTI** ” in his own scribbled handwriting.

Eddie reaches into his back pocket and holds the box loosely in his hands. He’s still sitting on the wood floor. “Remember when we had our first date?” Richie’s eyes move to the box and he falters.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.”

“You made that playlist for me when we were seventeen, and we were in your room listening to it after a movie. And I – God. Okay.” Eddie takes a deep breath, hands fiddling with the small box. His eyes are hot and he quickly blinks tears away. Richie joins him on the ground, apt with a desire to hold his partner in his arms, grunting at the distance between him and the floor. His eyes flit between Eddie’s own and the box. Eddie takes Richie’s fascination as a sign to flip open the box.

“Before that night, I was, well, I was terrified that I was reading into things, imagining… everything. So when you played me this tape, and this song in particular played, I,” Eddie smiles, “well, I had an inkling that maybe – maybe – I wasn’t overthinking things.”

Richie’s grinning at him, wide and big, eyes sparkling under their old fluorescent lighting. “You weren’t overthinking things.”

Eddie laughs. “I wasn’t overthinking things. I kept it with me for eight years because you, and our friends, and that little cassette were the only good things to come out of Derry. And I want to keep it that way. So, Richie, will –”

“Yes!” Richie exclaims. 

“No you – you didn’t let me ask it!”

“Will you marry me?” Richie asks.

“Only if you let me finish my question, Rich,” Eddie huffs, but he’s still smiling. His heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest, he’s definitely crying, and his hands are still shaking, but he’s never been so certain of anything in his life. Richie’s quiet; Eddie takes that as the final invitation.

“Will you marry me?”

“I’ve been ready to marry you since we were six, Eds.”

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this on my tumblr @k4spbrak a month ago -- i have more (even shorter) drabbles under my tag /my+writing :')


End file.
